Tulian Keep

  29 Days until Spring

  .....

  House Eliah, Sporaton Capital

  Four Years Until Meeting Master

  It had been several weeks since the peasant with strange powers had secretly subverted Lady Ellie's will, and to her growing consternation, not a single person had noticed. The anomalous woman continued to go about her assigned duties for the House without a care in the world, spending days at a time without interacting with Ellie in the slightest.

  It was utterly infuriating. With no other choice, she was forced to live her life as if nothing were wrong. The commands the peasant had tied about her neck were as numerous as they were comprehensive, and all her attempts at circumnavigating their wording had been fruitless. With a power such as the peasant possessed, it was frighteningly easy to do. Two commands, once spoken, had robbed Ellie of all capacity for retaliation.

  The first was to give her the instruction that, if Ellie thought she were close to breaking free, desist in whatever it was she was doing to cause it. That maddeningly simplistic order alone had been the foil of the vast majority of her plots, and what little progressed beyond that point had been foiled by a second, equally simple command.

  The command to act completely normal, such that if Ellie even suspected someone was close to recognizing her predicament, she would whole-heartedly invest all her efforts in assuaging their suspicions. With the life Ellie had led, that was disastrous. She was simply too accomplished a liar.

  And thus was sealed her foremost avenue of escape, that of hoping someone close to her would recognize that she was not truly herself. Ellie may have been capable of moving her lips, of speaking words and steering herself through the manor's hallways, and for all intents and purposes looked like a free woman, but she wasn't. Should the thought of escape take her, her limbs would freeze, her throat cmping shut, and she would be paralyzed until she gave up on the idea. The final conceivable option she had considered was among the most promising, but also required of her the very thing she was the worst at providing.

  Passivity.

  After days of sleepless nights and uncountable failed pns, Ellie had been forced to confront the fact that her only hope y with, of all people, her tormenter. The enigmatic peasant that had embedded herself into the Eliah household, who had with a touch stolen Ellie's voice from her, was now the only one capable of releasing her. So long as Ellie was ready for it, all it would take was one small slip, the slightest misphrasing of an order or request, and Ellie could seize the moment.

  Perhaps the woman would get a sore throat and instruct her to prepare a gss of saltwater as a remedy, allowing Ellie to flee to the sea to acquire it. Or perhaps she would dangle a thoughtless off-handed remark in Ellie's direction, something simple like a sarcastic "do as you please," and then Ellie would leap upon her, choking her before any counter-command could be uttered.

  Sadly, this final option of escape was well beyond her control, and more infuriatingly, so rarely possible, because the damnable peasant wouldn't show up!

  That enraged Ellie most of all. After the hideous... debauchery in the library during their first meeting, the peasant had barely graced her presence. To extract such mewling falsehoods from Ellie in a time of distress, then to flutter off disinterestedly, was unconscionable. In the few times they had interacted, it had been beneath the eyes of others, and so the woman had addressed Ellie exactly as she ought to have, kneeling and scraping as was her due. The sight of her tormenter bowing should have been satisfying to Ellie, and while perhaps it was initially gratifying, it had rapidly progressed to irritating.

  What farce was this peasant building up? She'd even once publicly apologized to Ellie for her absence, bming it upon the duties pced by her work for the House, as if her complete dominion over said House's heir was a secondary concern to... to menial bor! After all she had done to Ellie that night, she had the gall to cim that it was contractual obligations that kept her away? Preposterous!

  And the aforementioned night itself, of course, grated on Ellie terribly. Memories of it haunted her as she tried to fall asleep, the terrible loss of power repying itself over and over again in her mind. The monster had toyed with her very perceptions of reality, picking apart what Ellie knew was and wasn't true, until she was like a mere child who did not understand how the world worked, unknowingly clinging to the cause as her only lifeline.

  That she had ultimately reacted as she did was no shame upon herself, Ellie had quickly decided. There had been no precedent in all her life for such an event, no experience for her to draw upon in the moment. To lose control of herself as she had was unbecoming of her, true, but no less than could be fairly expected in such extraordinary circumstances. Now that she had an idea of what she was dealing with, Ellie was determined not to become so out of sorts when the woman tormented her again.

  And yet, despite that determination, nothing continued to happen. Ellie spent days– weeks!– writhing with rage in her mind, physcially incapable of expressing it openly. The woman traipsed up and down the halls of her House without concern, and the mere knowledge of her presence drove Ellie mad.

  And so, on the third week of this untenable situation, Ellie decided to force the woman's hand. She called up one of the higher ranking servants, instructed them to bring the "new woman under the spymaster's employ" to her personal office, then dismissed her guards. Whatever would happen next Ellie could not predict, but at least something would happen.

  Ellie inspected her office as she waited, some small part of her mind still trying to conjure up a solution to her problem. She briefly entertained the fanciful thought of bancing a pot of boiling water above the door, or a basket of knives, but the preclusion to harming her Owner tormentor wouldn't allow her. So instead she set out a series of papers and ledgers in neat piles, as if she had been working up until the very moment the woman arrived. That done, she folded her hands and focused on steadying her breath, awaiting the woman's arrival.

  A sharp rap sounded on the door some minutes ter, the servant poking their head in.

  "Lady Ellie? Your requested guest is present."

  "Allow her entrance," Ellie instructed. The door closed, then was opened much more roughly, the object haunting her dreams plowing straight in.

  "Greetings, Lady Ellie," the peasant said, tucking one hand to her waist in a respectable bow. "You called for me?"

  "There are no hidden ears here, woman," Ellie snapped. "Cease your pointless groveling. The falsehood disgusts me nearly as much as the sight of your simpering smile."

  The peasant stood slowly, lips splitting in a different manner. One that resembled a polite smile, but was nothing of the sort.

  "Simpering. An interesting choice of words, My Lady."

  "And why is that?"

  "Nothing, nothing. It just resembles a bit of sng from my home that I thought amusingly relevant." The peasant cleared her throat. "I apologize, My Lady. You had a purpose in calling me here, and it was rude of me to distract."

  Despite herself, Ellie's knuckles whitened. "What is the purpose of this? Did you not believe me when I said the room was free of hidden observers? Why act as you do, vilin? What is the object of this charade?"

  "I see," the woman said, taking a slow step towards Ellie's desk. "You want me to drop the pretenses, then? Do with you as I did before? It's understandable, of course. Just say the word, and–"

  "No!" Ellie's heart lurched. "No, I most certainly did not say that." Ellie allowed herself a moment to retract her cws from where they had instinctively dug into the wood of her desk. "I despise you, peasant. I despise what you have done to me. Though you may have bound me now, when I am free, your punishment will not be swift. It will be long and torturous."

  "Ooh," the woman cooed. "Is that a promise, My Lady? Had I known how readily you'd propose such an idea, I wouldn't have bothered with all those extra conditions in the first pce."

  Ellie could already feel a headache coming on. They were an increasingly common phenomena, these days. The woman continued her slow, step by step approach, and every inch closer had Ellie's emotions ratcheting higher. She held up a hand.

  "Stop. Not another step."

  To her surprise, the woman did stop. She cocked her head as she did so, looking at Ellie with an expression almost like... respect? That couldn't be it. No one could both treat Ellie as this woman had and respect her at the same time. The ideas were incompatible. Whatever the inscrutable expression was, it at least coincided with halting her advance some ten feet away from Ellie's desk.

  "If that's not why you called me here, what is? Some trouble with the quality of my work? I assure you, I've been diligent."

  "I haven't the faintest clue what you do under our employee, peasant, and I never intend to learn. No. I called you here because you are an enemy traipsing about under my very nose, one whose intentions and capabilities I am entirely unappraised of, and that situation must be rectified."

  "In other words, you want to know what I'll do with you?"

  Ellie bristled. It was fortunate that she was sitting, because her tail tried to sh furiously. Without the appendage to give her away, she could keep her voice steady, projecting confidence.

  "Hardly. At this point, I begin to question if the control you have over my body is as strong as you cim. If there were not some limit to this peculiar ability, you would not be spending so long toiling under my–"

  "Choke on your fingers. Gag on them."

  "–House's employ- agckh!"

  Ellie recoiled from her own limb as her slender fingers inserted themselves into her mouth without hesitation, the peasant briefly treated to the comical sight of Ellie trying to flee from her own hand. All she achieved was shoving herself away from the desk before her mouth was invaded, index and middle fingers depressing her tongue with a messy noise.

  "You are sadly mistaken, My Lady," the peasant said. Ellie barely paid attention, too busy trying to stop herself from vioting her own throat. The peasant hadn't just told her to put her fingers in her mouth, she had ordered her to gag. That meant that the moment Ellie found the sensation remotely tolerable, her fingers forcibly probed deeper, saliva further coating her hand until she choked once more. The only sign the peasant noticed the dispy was the way she spoke louder, to be heard over Ellie's gasping.

  "In fact, there are no limits to the power I hold over you. If I ordered you to freeze in pce until you starved, you would. If I demanded you to sprint to the sea, you would run until you colpsed. Make no mistake, Lady Ellie, you have no ability to resist me, and you never will again."

  Her Owner's The peasant's words were growing indistinct as Ellie gasped for breath, knuckles by then pressing against the edges of her lips. Long strands of spit were running down her hand, dripping off her forearm to the desk. The fuzziness of her mind grew worse as she watched the peasant resume her slow approach, a buzzing hiss probing the edge of her consciousness at the sight.

  "But fortunately for you, you cute little thing, I don't want total obedience. I've had that before. It's mundane. It... bores me. No, what I want from you isn't your money, or your stature, or your influence. Do you know what I want from you? Answer me."

  Still gagging on her fingers, the demand compelled Ellie to shake her head in the negative.

  "Then I'll tell you, My Lady. I want you to come to me of your own volition. I want to open my door one morning to find you curled up on my doorstep like the good little kitten I know you are. I want you to not just want me, I want you to recognize that you need me. It'll happen, eventually. You're too smart to deceive yourself forever. All you get to decide is how much fun I have on the way there."

  Ellie's vision seemed to blur as the peasant reached the edge of her desk, staring down at her. Ellie was helpless to do anything other than gag and stare up at her tormentor with wide eyes. Drool was pooling on the desk, ruining her papers. The peasant lingered for a moment, piercing eyes roving over Ellie's form, lecherously taking in her breasts, her fingers stuffed into her mouth, and every inch of her exposed skin. Ellie tried to radiate defiance in response, but she feared it came across as little more than pathetic indignation. Like a child pretending they didn't care that their nursemaid had siezed them by the colr so they could be taken to another room for disciplining. Ellie's defiance was farcical, and they both knew it.

  The peasant finally leaned away, lessening the pounding pressure between Ellie's ears. Ellie's hand was by this point shoved as far down her throat as she could fit it, her jaw stretched quite painfully to accommodate it, but she still couldn't adjust. There was no adapting to the foreign object in her throat, and every time she got close, her fingers involuntarily twitched against the back of her throat, causing it to continue its spasms. Ellie's vision spun with dizziness as she managed only fitful gasps around her fingers, taking in what air she could.

  It was in this pitiful state that she watched the peasant retreat to the door, pcing a hand on the handle, and for a moment Ellie nearly panicked, thinking the woman would leave her under the compulsion for gods knew how long. To her great relief– relief she refused to show outwardly– the peasant paused, gncing back at her.

  "You are right about one thing, Lady Ellie. I have been leaving you alone too long. It's not right when owners ignore their pets. I promise I'l make some time in the coming days to swing by." The peasant began to turn the door handle, then paused once more, as if the idea had just occurred to her. "Oh, yeah. When I leave the room, you may stop choking yourself. Feel free to continue, though. It'll be good practice for things to come."

  Ellie did not have enough air in her lungs to fix the woman with the furious gre she desired. It wouldn't have mattered; the peasant turned and left without sparing her a further gnce, casually shutting the door behind herself.

  Ellie tore her hand from her mouth, her first eager gasp resulting in a violent coughing fit. Not wanting to ruin her dress, she pounded her chest with her unsoiled hand, the ache in her throat pulsing with each beat of her thundering heart. When she got her lungs under control, she opened her eyes, confronted with a humiliating sight.

  A long string of spittle connected her hand to her lips, glistening in the open air. Her frantic attempts at freeing herself had only thrown more across the table, ruining most of the documents she had set out. She would have to throw them away; there was no mistaking what fluid caused this.

  So disoriented was Ellie that her first reaction was to pick up the papers, as if they mattered in the slightest. She hadn't even cleaned her hand yet, and all she achieved was soiling the few parchments that might've been salvaged. Now ink ran beneath her hand, mixing with saliva. Ellie watched it run, her chest shaking.

  She closed her eyes, counting slowly up from one, all the way to ten, then reopened them.

  Without a trace of trembling to her motions, Ellie wiped the back of her hand across her chin, gathering up what she could of the spit before using the papers to dry her fingers. As she used precious financial documents to pat herself down, she felt a burning heat rising in her core. A fury borne of desire for revenge, for justice.

  She would show this peasant exactly who she was.

  She heard two sharp snaps.

  -----------------------

  Evie blinked rapidly, feeling the untold yers of commands sloughing off her shoulders. It was a mixed thing, the loss of such a refined manipution of Master's ownership of her, but it at least let her better appreciate the events that had transpired. Master was back in the room, still wearing her simple peasant clothing, smiling at Evie. Evie smiled back, reaching to one of the desk's drawers and pulling out one of her notebooks.

  "Alright, Master, now that we've established the new approach, I think it would be best if we moved to this section here, seeing my younger self's reaction to the demonstration of your power. I acted much like I anticipated, but was surprised by how-"

  "Woah there," Master said, holding up her hands with a chuckle. "First thing's first. You have fun?"

  "Dunno how she could," Hurlish grumbled, from the sofa where she, Vesta, and Oddry had been watching the show. They had been invisible to 'Ellie.'

  "You know how she enjoys being choked, Hurlish," Vesta said. "And you certainly seemed to enjoy the show."

  "I mean, I thought it was hot, and I know Evie loves being choked on anything she can get her lips around, but her old fancy self?"

  Evie smirked. "Oh, I assure you, my proclivities seem to be innate, rather than learned. Master just awoke me to them. You think I didn't enjoy it?" Evie twisted in her chair and lifted her dress, exposing her soaked undergarments to the women. "From the moment Master first ordered my fingers in my mouth, I was dripping. I haven't the faintest clue how my old self was able to ignore that arousal, frankly. It seems I was more skilled at self-deception than even I'd appreciated."

  The sight of three women– no, four, counting Master– silently appreciating Evie's drenched panties sent a second wave of arousal through her. Her pussy reflexively twitched. With how the damp cloth was clinging to her skin, she knew they saw, and that only furthered her arousal.

  Gods, but I love this.

  "Well, good to hear you had a good time," Master said, moving to sit on the edge of the desk. Evie handed her the notebook happily, moving carefully so that her dress would not fall back down. She also spread her legs a little bit wider, to ensure Hurlish and the others had a good view of how wet she was. Master began to read. After a few moments, she flipped the page, eyebrows raising. "Damn, girl. How much did you write ahead of time?"

  "Enough to ensure the commands would be thorough, of course. The more detailed the compulsions you yer upon me, the more perfected the fantasy feels when I finally awake. At times they can be nearly as vivid as if I truly lived it." Evie licked her lips. "And receiving the command themselves is, of course, exquisite. I will admit that I may have detailed more than is strictly necessary, just to draw out the process."

  From the sidelines, Oddry made a cute noise of compint. "I wish I could experience that! At times it almost seems worth it, to be a sve. I won't of course, I know you've made it illegal, Governess, but I do so hope there is some way to replicate the experience. It seems so enjoyable."

  Master snorted. "Just being a sve wouldn't mark it work for you like it does for Evie. Mind manipution is an Amarat special, I'm afraid. You couldn't get the same effect while being Vesta's sve."

  Oddry frowned. "Damn. Not much point in that. Never mind."

  "You ftter me, dear," Vesta hummed, rubbing Oddry's shoulder.

  Master offered Oddry a conciliatory expression. "Maybe Selliana can brew you up a potion some day to replicate the effect. Might be worth asking after. Until then, you'll just have to settle for all the other fvors of debauchery Vesta's acquainted you with."

  "Quite," Evie said, somewhat impatiently. "Are we ready to move on to the next scene now, Master?"

  "I guess so. You ready?"

  "Always."

  Sara lifted the book and took a few steps back from the desk, looking Evie in the eye to affirm her consent one st time, then turned her attention down to the book.

  "You are listening to my voice, and only my voice. You can hear nothing else. You are looking at me, and only me. You can see nothing else. You are thinking of me, and only me. There is nothing else."

  Evie's core clenched down on nothing as Master's commands rolled through her, the colr rewarding her obedience with successive waves of hot, intoxicating pleasure. She knew that Hurlish and the others would see her hips tilting against nothing, her eyes gzing over, but that didn't matter, did it? They weren't there.

  No one was there.

  Even Evie wasn't there. She wasn't worth mentioning.

  There was just Her.

  Her voice, Her words.

  Master.

  -----------------------------

  --------------------------

  -----------------------

  True to her word, the peasant returned to Ellie not two days ter. It was a rather impromptu meeting, suspiciously coincidental, but Ellie was too paranoid to accept such a thing as mere coincidence.

  She had been traveling down one of the manor's long carpeted halls with only a single guard, heading towards one of the House's tailors with a ripped dress in hand. So great had her irritation over her present situation been that morning that she had pulled it out of her wardrobe with considerable force, tearing it on a jutting hook. The rip was sizable, a gap spanning from her left shoulder to the right side of the middle of her ribcage, and it was obviously ruined. Yet the dress was one of her favorites. She couldn't stomach the thought of throwing it away. To avoid the tailor simply tossing it aside as ruined, she'd decided to deliver the garment personally so she could impress its importance, rather than send a member of her staff.

  And so it was that she ran across the damnable peasant early in the morning, the woman spotting her from a long ways down the hallway, emerging from a crossroads. Ellie had stiffened, but couldn't about face without her guard questioning it, and so she was forced to careen down the hallway, locked onto her doomed path.

  "Greetings, Lady Ellie," the peasant said when they neared, bowing low. "Fancy running into you here."

  "I own the entire premises," Ellie snapped irritably. "What do you–"

  She stopped. She had been close to saying 'what do you want,' but there was no expining that to her guard. A peasant had nothing that they could want of Lady Ellie. Either the guard would suspect something was amiss, and Ellie's commands would force her to grovel to assure them, or they would make a subtler, more dangerous assumption. It wasn't uncommon for nobles to take peasant paramours, and she despised the thought of the guard assuming this infuriating woman was one of hers. She bit her tongue, reworking her sentence.

  "What of your work brings you to this portion of the House?"

  "My time off, Lady Ellie. I finished my work but a little while ago."

  "Hmph. Well, then. You ought to get going, and do whatever it is that entertains your sort."

  When the words leaving her mouth prompted a predatory grin, she knew she'd chosen them poorly.

  "If you insist, Lady Ellie. I rather excel at finding my own entertainment, I think you'll find." The peasant swept her arm out, indicating the direction Ellie had been heading. "After you."

  Where the guard following behind her couldn't see it, Ellie's lip lifted in a terrible snarl. To preserve appearances, however, she had no choice but to forge ahead, ignoring the way the peasant began walking beside her. To her considerable irritation, the peasant struck up a pleasant conversation with the guard. Safe as they were deep within the premises, she could not chastise them for shirking their duty.

  "So you've really just gotta follow her around all day? Doesn't that get boring?"

  "Pretty much, but nah, doesn't get boring," the guard replied, her Tulian accent an oddity in the Sporaton capital. Ellie supposed the rge orc had been a migrant fleeing the storms, finding employ with the Eliah household. "Lot more interesting than being posted outside some door, and it pays well. I like it."

  "Pretty good posting then, huh?"

  "Not bad at all."

  "Congrats on the good job, then. My name's Sara, by the way."

  "Hurlish."

  Ellie gnced backward as the peasant stuck out her hand for a handshake, which the orc of course reached for. When their hands met, however, Ellie witnessed something that made her skin crawl.

  The orc's fingers clenched unexpectedly, a strange expression fshing across her face. Rather than complete the handshake, she yanked away, shaking out her hand.

  "Damn! The hells was that?"

  Ellie's steps stuttered severely, nearly taking her to the ground. When the peasant's commands had first settled upon her, it had felt like a static shock across the entire portion the woman had touched, electrifying her. Even though she'd nearly fallen, the orcish guard barely noticed, so distracted by the handshake. Ellie slowly turned around, heart pounding, and saw the peasant woman grinning maliciously.

  "Nothing to worry about," the peasant told the guard.

  The orc guard blinked several times, her eyes losing focus. Then she nodded. "You're right. Nothing to worry about, ma'am."

  Ma'am?! Evie practically shrieked in her mind. Ma'am?! You touch her once, and now you call her ma'am?

  Ellie looked between the orc guard– Hurlish, she'd said her name was– and the peasant, whose smile had grown no less malevolent. Ellie locked eyes with the peasant, who had certainly realized that any obstacle to her pns had just vanished with that handshake. Ellie shuddered. She turned on a heel and began hurrying off down the hall, primal instinct encouraging her to gain distance no matter how little it would achieve.

  "Slow down there, Lady Ellie!" The peasant called after her, sounding far friendlier than she actually was. Ellie felt a terrible pressure seize her legs, slowing them to a sedate walk. Peasant and guard caught up in short order, and this time, the peasant walked beside her, rather than behind her.

  "Something convinced you to hurry, all of the sudden?" The peasant teased.

  "I will not stand for you speaking to your betters in such a way–"

  "Answer the question."

  Ellie's face wrenched up, lips curling fiercely as she tried to halt the words spilling forth. "I noticed your commands taking hold over my guard, and fear what you will do with such unfettered access to me now that she cannot protect me."

  The guard, Hurlish, straightened. "What was that, Lady Ellie? Is something the matter?"

  "Yes, this woman has taken–" Evie's throat seized up in the middle of her sentence, choking off her words. She couldn't expin her situation to her guard. The commands wouldn't let her.

  The peasant waved a dismissive hand, answering for Ellie. "No. Everything's normal."

  Hurlish rexed. "Oh. Good. I was worried for a second."

  The peasant looked ready to move on, but an idea seemed to occur to her, and she looked back at the guard once more.

  "In fact, everything I do with Lady Ellie is perfectly normal. No matter what, my behavior around her will seem completely appropriate to you."

  "Why wouldn't it?" The orc asked, as if the notion was obvious.

  "Who knows? Just covering my bases."

  Suddenly, without any warning, the peasant's hand nded on Ellie's left breast. She jumped in pce, trying to shove it off her, but the peasant's earlier commands prevented her from resisting her advances in any fashion. The peasant began palming her breast through her dress, a throaty and appreciative hum sounding.

  "Damn, damn, damn. You were right, Ellie. I've been holding back for no good reason. Your body shouldn't be left alone for this long, should it?"

  Without being able to move the woman's hand off of her, she took several steps backward, trying to gain distance. As she'd just been ordered to move slow, however, the peasant easily followed her, all the way up until her back was pressed against the wall. A second hand nded on her other breast, keeping her up against the wall.

  "Gods," the peasant breathed, stepping even closer to Ellie, "your body really is a wonder. I don't tell you that often enough, you know."

  Even knowing it was pointless, Ellie put her hands on the woman's wrists, trying to peel them off her. "You have never told me such, you ignoble beast! And I wouldn't care if you did!"

  Oddly, both Hurlish and the peasant chuckled. "Oh, we'll see about that, Ellie."

  Ellie trembled, searching for some response. Even through her dress, the attention on her breasts was intense. Ellie had touched herself, of course, and often palmed her chest as she did so, but to have another doing so was proving an entirely different thing.

  Despite herself, she felt her breathing deepen, her tail sliding up and down the wall behind her. The woman seemed to know her body like the back of her hand, running her thumbs over her covered nipples at just the right time to get her breath hitching, applying firm pressure all throughout that had Ellie's spine tingling.

  "What a-are you doing? G-get off me," Ellie panted, still shoving ineffectually at the woman's wrists. "We are in p-public! Anyone could come down t-this hallway."

  "Funny that that's your first concern, Ellie," the woman hummed, eyes never leaving Ellie's chest. "I'd have thought you'd want me to stop in general."

  "That's- of course!" Ellie hissed. "Your current actions simply compound the barbarity!"

  "So what you're saying is, you'd be happier with it if I took us to a private area?" The peasant asked, her words thick with lust.

  Ellie's mind whirled. She had said she would prepare herself for this moment, prepare herself to resist the woman, but saying she would and actually doing it were two different things. Her skin was afire with tingling pleasure like she'd never known, her cheeks roaring a furious blush as her heart pounded. Even still, she tried to think logically, working her way through her options.

  The woman says she will take me somewhere private, where we can't be seen. That might avoid a scandal, but it will allow her to be even more bold. The question for me is, then, whether I am willing to accept humiliation in exchange for potential freedom from this binding.

  "Somewhere private, please," Ellie whispered, the speed with which she made the decision shocking her. For as much as she wished to escape this bondage, the thought of others seeing her carnally engaged with a peasant was too horrifying.

  Not, she forcefully told herself, because of what she will be able to do to me in that private area. Not because she might be able to drive my desire higher and higher, as she did that first night, not because there her every spoken word might pull at my arousal until I am a shuddering mess.

  Grinning, the peasant released Ellie's chest, stepping away from her. Ellie sagged, breathing hard, the faint echo of the woman's ministrations still rolling over her body. She stood like that for some time, mastering herself, and for some reason the peasant let her. Eventually, however, the damned woman of course spoke up.

  "I like hearing you say that, by the way. You should do it more."

  "Say what?" Ellie snapped, mastering her voice for long enough to sound furious.

  "Please."

  Ellie froze. She hadn't, had she? She hadn't said please to the woman. She was not that sort. She couldn't be.

  Ellie clutched the dress she was carrying closer to her, striding down the hallway. She made it only a few steps before she faltered once more, a strange sensation running across her body. She felt oddly cool, and her dress didn't seem to fit the same.

  Ellie looked down, then gasped.

  She was no longer wearing what she had been this morning. She was wearing the ripped dress, with nothing beneath. The dress had been of a new, southern style, purple silk meant to hug her chest and hips, accenting her body, rather than obscuring it, as was traditional. She'd loved it because it allowed her to show off more of her warrior's muscuture than some fluffy monstrosity, but now it was showing far too much. Her left breast was entirely bared, pale and creamy, as well as the bottom half of her right breast, the nipple barely hidden. She immediately clutched her arms to her chest, trying to cover herself. There was too much to hide, however, and she could only cover her breasts themselves, not the entire rip.

  Behind her, the peasant chuckled. "Oh, yeah. By the way. You're going to be wearing that for a while."

  "What–? When–?"

  "Doesn't really matter, does it? Now stop covering yourself."

  Evie's hands fell to her side, still clenched in shame, but covering nothing. The peasant circled to the front of her, licking her lips. At the look in her eye, Ellie shivered.

  "Tsk-tsk, Lady Ellie. Walking about in torn clothes? If someone didn't know better, they might think you have a thing for that."

  "I-I-" Evie stammered, heat roaring through her body, "I cannot believe what you are insinuating! It is your machinations that put me in this state, woman! Do you really think that I would pn this, to be wearing something so absurd?"

  Once more, the orc guard chuckled deeply, as if Ellie's statement was deeply ironic. The peasant cast Hurlish a censorious gre, then returned to Ellie.

  "Even if you didn't, Lady Ellie," the woman said, beginning to slowly pad around to the right side of Ellie's body, "what does it matter? The result is the same. You can't cover yourself. I won't let you."

  Ellie shuddered again, harder.

  "What if someone came down this hallway right now, and saw you? Saw your tits out in the open air, bared for all to see? What would they think of you?"

  Ellie turned her head to the left, closing her eyes as if that would block out the woman's words.

  "Would they really believe that you'd been in some unfortunate incident, one that ended up with you fshing your perfect little tits, or would they be a bit more clever? Would they recognize you as the desperate, feverishly horny woman you are?"

  "I am nothing of the sort," Ellie insisted in a fierce whisper.

  "Are you?"

  The woman had padded around behind her, and now she leaned forward, resting her chin on Ellie's shoulders. She felt calloused hands on her hips, rough even through the thin material of the dress. They hooked gently into her flesh, racing up and down her sides. Ellie could barely keep herself from shaking like a leaf.

  "Your body doesn't seem to agree, Lady Ellie," the peasant purred, moving up so her breath was hot on Ellie's ears. They flicked rapidly, involuntarily. The peasant's hands split, one roaming higher, one falling lower. "I don't think you really appreciate how much you want this, Lady Ellie."

  Heat rose further in Ellie as the woman's words angered her. "I want no such thing," she hissed.

  "Mmm," the peasant hummed throatily, "how much would you bet on that? I wouldn't put too much, personally."

  The peasant's right hand reached Ellie's bared chest, tracing the curving undersides of her breasts with a scraping nail. Ellie jumped at the touch, purely reflexively.

  "If I were to, say," the peasant's other hand began to circle over her lower stomach, "dip a little bit lower, what do you think I'd find? Something soft, hot, and ready for me?"

  Ellie's toned stomach rippled under the her dress, its thin silken material doing little to mute the sensations being forced upon it. Her breath kept trying to catch in her throat, and it took all her willpower to keep her breathing even.

  "Well?" The peasant purred, "what about it? Do you think you're going to be nice and wet?"

  Ellie could not answer, because she knew the answer. She could feel the thud of her racing pulse deep in her core, her senses so thick with arousal that she could not pinpoint which part of her body felt more afme. Her breasts, open to the air, still tingled from their initial groping, her nipples achingly hard. There was something slick coating her thighs, which she kept clenched tightly together, to avoid it showing.

  This is... This is a command. A hidden order, like the one that changed me into this dress, but to infme my passions. It couldn't be anything else.

  "Not going to answer, then? Alright."

  The peasant's presence around Ellie disappeared, and she very nearly fell backward without the support she'd not realized she'd been relying upon. She stood strong, however, all the way up until the peasant spoke again.

  "Hurlish, check how wet she is for me."

  Ellie tried to step away, but her body was slowed from commands and her own pounding arousal. The orc, responding to her order, reached out instantly with one massive hand and snagged her shoulder. Ellie gasped as she was driven back against the wall.

  Without the slightest bit of concern, the orc grabbed the shin-length hem of her silk dress and jerked it up, rattling Ellie's entire frame with the brusqueness of the motion. The dress, though form-fitting, still pinched and tugged at her legs as it was yanked up past her hips.

  "Just a minute, ma'am," the orc said, apologizing to the peasant. "She's wearing underwear. Won't take long."

  "Don't you– "

  Ellie gasped as she felt the waistline of her panties get snagged by powerful fingers, which pulled back. Her hips jerked forward as her underclothes were physically torn off of her, dropped to the floor an instant ter like so much trash. Before Ellie could even react to that indignity, the orc's hand returned, one thick finger pressing between her pussy lips, dragging along her slit. The orc brought it out into the open, where it glistened, perfectly visible for all to see.

  "Pretty wet, ma'am, looks like."

  "I'm shocked."

  Ellie was panting, leaning against the wall, chest heaving. She ached between her legs, in her breasts, and curiously, in her throat. Like her throat knew something she didn't, as if there should be something in it, at that moment. Ellie shuddered again.

  "What are you going to do next?" She asked breathlessly, barely more than a whisper.

  The peasant grinned. "Well, you said you'd rather have somewhere private, right? We'll have to find something. Now, get your dress down. If we leave you like that any longer, you're gonna start dripping on the carpet."

  Ellie's limbs responded to the order with infuriating immediacy, forcing her disheveled dress back into pce, or as close as she could get it. She didn't even fight the command, this time. The comment that she would be literally dripping her arousal onto the carpet was an absurdity, but... perhaps not as absurd as she would have liked. Her aching core was still pounding, pounding, pounding, and it showed no sign of stopping.

  "Follow me," the peasant ordered, crooking a finger. Ellie was tugged along like a marionette, her feet acting before her body could catch up to find its bance. "You were heading to get the dress fixed, right?"

  Ellie remained silent.

  "Answer me."

  Ellie tried to fight it, clenching her jaw shut, but she shouldn't have. What came out was far more pitiful than a forthright answer. "Mmmfh- I- mhhh- going to- see- the. tailor!"

  Her orc guard gave her a strange look as the strangled words spilled inexorably forth. Considering the fact that Hurlish's hand was still dripping with Ellie's slick, she was past giving a damn what the woman thought.

  "Alright, perfect. Then that's where we'll go."

  Ellie's legs stomped endlessly after the peasant, even while her upper body recoiled.

  "What? Now? While I'm wearing this?"

  "Well, you need to get it changed, don't you?"

  "Not while I'm wearing it!"

  "Would you rather I take you into the nearest closet and ravish you?"

  Ellie's mind swirled. Her mouth, very briefly, nearly spat out the word yes. She bit it back just in time. Any admittance that the peasant's actions brought Ellie pleasure were out of the question. She simply refused to admit it.

  Because it wasn't true, of course.

  Which meant she was going to be going to see the tailor.

  With her breasts hanging out.

  Unable to even cover them with her hands.

  Another shudder rolled through her, and for the first time, she wasn't able to ignore the way the slickness coating her thighs intensified.